


Moffat's School For Mutants

by orphan_account, XxStarlieyXx



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, F/M, Government Agencies, Highschool AU, M/M, mutant AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5780128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxStarlieyXx/pseuds/XxStarlieyXx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s 2032, and Clara Oswin Oswald has been taken to a government testing facility. Clara has never been completely normal, she has photographic memory and can remember all of her past, except the past day. She soon realizes that she is at a special school for students who have special powers like her, and she meets others who are trying to harness their powers as well. Welcome to Moffat’s School for Mutants, readers, and have a nice stay. ON HIATUS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Dave and Eleanor “Ellie” Oswald were terrified when their daughter started showing signs of being a Mutant. After all, they were two of many, hearing about an organization called Torchwood. There were numerous stories about what they did, and none of them lined up. Nevertheless, they were all terrible. They couldn't dream of anyone taking their daughter there.

As the years went on, her photographic memory only got better, she could recall what she had for lunch any given day in year four. She could skim through a textbook and then ace a quiz on the the subject two months later. 

Her teachers loved her. She won awards and scholarships she didn’t need. Her classmates, however, envied her. They despised her, after all she was a teacher’s pet and a textbook example of know-it-all, not to mention she’d skipped two years ahead of her age. Despite her best efforts to make friends, Clara knew they all hated her. She couldn’t change that.

As the years went on, Ellie got really worried. She had heard countless reports of Mutants being taken, all similar to her daughter. She did everything in her power to conceal Clara's ‘curse’, but her daughter’s academic reputation certainly didn’t help. Clara had to switch schools. Twice. In a year. Then Clara’s mum and dad home schooled Clara for most of highschool. It was the only secure place where she wouldn’t be able to be found by Torchwood.

Still, they found her. Torchwood always finds them. It was September 19th, 2032 when they got Clara. She was sixteen, and starting year thirteen. She was set to go to Oxford. She wanted to be an English Professor. She had her whole future planned out- and then, in a blink of an eye, it was gone.

They got her right outside the school. Clara’s parents had driven her to school for her first day. Dave had waited in the car and Ellie had walked Clara up to the building, when she heard the awful sound of sirens nearing the building. Clara’s mum watched it with her own eyes, yet she couldn’t stop it. She watched in agony as Clara was knocked unconscious and taken into a black van with the Torchwood logo written on the side. 

“No!” Ellie cried, “You can’t take her!” She shoved through the crowd of mocking teenagers, saying things that were definitely not child friendly, and worried parents, concerned that their kids would be next.

Ellie made it to the row of cops just as the van drove off. She chased after it with all the energy that she had. A cop stopped her.

“Sorry, Miss, she’s Torchwood’s now.” 

Clara’s mum looked the cop in the eye with undisguised fury. She had not made Clara switch schools so often, and home schooled her, for her daughter to be taken away from her. Clara was her child, her baby, and she would try to get her back.  
“She’s my daughter, and I’ll save her. I don’t care about your bloody Mutant research, mark my words-” There was a loud bang. Her lifeless body fell to the street, a bullet buried in her chest. The crowd fell silent.

“Nothing to see here!” One of the cops said, beginning to put yellow caution tape around the area, as other cops were trying to cover up Ellie’s body. “Now shoo! Out! All of you!” The crowd scrambled away in fear.


	2. Day One

I blinked my eyes, squinting at the sudden harsh brightness. I raised my head from the pillow that my head had been resting on. 

 

I was in a room, one I had never been to before. The walls were a bright, blinding white, with no form of ornament. I looked to my left, and there was a wardrobe in a corner that looked like it had never been used before. I turned my head and saw another immaculate wardrobe in the right corner. Next to the wardrobe was a metal bed with white sterile sheets, matching the hospital-like motif of the whole room. I assumed I was on a matching metal bed. The metal bed that I was not currently occupying had a blonde girl sitting on it reading a book.

 

Her bleach blonde hair was in a ponytail, and her brown eyes were lined by long thick eyelashes and eyeliner. She was wearing a blue leather jacket, and under that a white polo shirt with the “Torchwood” logo on it and jeans. Her grey trainers were the only thing not in pristine condition.

 

As if she could sense that someone was staring at her, she looked up from her book. Her eyes had met mine, and I fidgeted because she had caught me staring at her. My mum had taught me never to stare at people. I wondered how she was doing, how my dad was doing, since all I could remember was something sharp in my neck, I guessed that it was a tranquilizer dart of some kind.

 

“Oh, nice to see you’re awake,” she gave a warm smile.“What’s your story?” she asked, sounding curious.

 

“What do you mean ‘story’?” I looked around for clues as to where I was. Oh god, I didn’t know where I was.

Not knowing was odd. I remembered  _ everything _ . When I was four, hoverboards became legal and that 37,423 people died that day. When I was in year five I took a math test and the seventh question was 23 - 3 x 64 . I can remember  _ that _ , but not this. This must be important. Torchwood must be involved. 

“Who are you?” I asked the girl.  I realized I was still lying down, and I sat up, leaning back on my hands.

 

“I’m your roommate, Rose Marion Tyler,” she answered. “I’m a Mutant, like you, I can heal people, just minor injuries mind you, but Moffat’s helping me with that.” 

I was confused and I was sure it showed. I knew I was special, but my dad had a good memory too, just not as good as mine. I just made the assumption that it was genetic.

“What’s your name?” she asked. “If you can remember.”   
  


Oh, I could remember. 

“Clara Oswin Oswald,” I said, “I have eidetic memory. Well I thought I did, I can’t seem to recall the past day or so.” 

I looked down at myself, I was dressed identically to Rose, save the jacket. The fact that someone must’ve undressed me while I was unconscious, and the fact that they did at all, made me squirm.

 

Rose nodded, “Yeah Torchwood does that from time to time, you’ll remember soon. C’mon, I’ll show you around.” She put down the book she was reading, swung her legs, and stood up from her bed.

 

“Just one question,” I started, “where am I?” Let me just reiterate. I  _ hate _ not knowing.

 

“Oh,” she said laughing, “Moffat’s School for Mutants, there’s ‘bout forty of us, all Mutants like you. It’s a division of Torchwood, we’re being ‘observed’ or something, but mainly it’s like regular school.” I flinched.

 

“Regular school has never been my forte,” I joked. Kinda. Not really. 

 

If this is like regular school, then I was screwed. Everyone would make fun of me and I’d have to eat with the teachers. Seeing as this school was run by Torchwood and they were ‘observing’ us, I don’t think I would want to eat with the teachers either.   
  


“Same for all of us really,” Rose sounded sympathetic, “But it’s okay. We’re all freaks here.” Those words meant so little so much at the same time.  _ We’re all freaks here. _ Maybe I wouldn’t be singled out, maybe I’d have friends here. 

“You okay?” Rose observed. I guess I didn’t realize I had stopped to think about it for so long.

 

“Yeah,” I tried to muster a nervous smile, “Can I meet your friends?” I probably sounded like a lost puppy, or some equally helpless equivalent.

 

“Sure,” Rose grinned, “just follow me down the hall, I bet they’re in the common room.” I was suspicious, she wasn’t tricking me, was she? I’d  heard the worst things about Torchwood, and they hardly seemed trustworthy. Was I in too deep?

But… she was the only person who I had met so far. She seemed fairly nice and honest. The warmth that she exhibited couldn’t be faked, I was good at observing people’s mannerisms and body language, and Rose was just too naturally nice.

 

She scanned her finger on a pad in the wall, next to a white panel. The door slid open. I followed her down the hall, and so far, she wasn’t leading me to the dark, molten, incineration pits of hell. We approached a white door was a plaque that said  _ Common Room _ . Figures. She scanned her fingerprint and the door moved, revealing a room.

 

“I’ll get you registered soon enough,” she promised as we walked into the room. “Hey guys,” she greeted the room. There were about a dozen kids, all about my age, presumably all Mutants.

 

Only one of them bothered to look up. 

 

“Guys!” Rose repeated, “Someone just showed up today.” A few people closed their books or laptops to come over. I had never felt so popular in my life.

 

“Hi, I’m Clara,” I introduced myself, “Oswald. Clara Oswin Oswald,”

 

“So,” a boy, probably about sixteen, began. He had quiffed brown hair and an awfully out of place bowtie. “What’s wrong with you?” That was a question I hadn’t been asked in years, and I felt my face heat up.

“Sorry,” he apologized, “I mean, what’s your power?”

 

“Oh,” I said, relieved. He seemed like a nice guy, even if his mouth seemed to run off. “Um, Eidetic memory, I remember everything,” I explained.

 

“Cool,” he said, unironically. “I’m Matt by the way. Matthew Robert Smith,” he repeated in a tone mocking mine. I laughed and must’ve sounded really stupid. 

“And you must be feeling lost- I’m telepathic-” he explained, before I could question him. “Here let me help,” 

 

He tapped the girl next to him and whispered something. She nodded and looked up the blue book she had been scribbling in furiously.  

“I’m River Song,” she said. Matt coughed and River side eyed him, before continuing with her introduction. “I can tell the future, well only a few minutes, but I’m learning.” 

These people were all Mutants like me, learning to harness their powers. For once I felt at home.   
  
“Really?” I asked River in disbelief, “Can you tell me what’s going to happen in thirty seconds?” I bet she was sick of people asking her that.

 

“Sure I can,” River said, “But I mustn’t. Spoilers and all that,” she said, returning to her book.

 

Thirty seconds later, a boy, about eighteen walked in. 

“Hey,” he said walking to the back of the room. He saw me and did a double take. “Hi, Captain Jack Harkness,” he shook my hand and introduced himself. I was swooning, and I for one, do  _ not _ enjoy that feeling. Granted I had only felt it once, and I was eight. And he was fictional.

 

And then Jack turned it off. Just like that. Snapped back to reality. 

“What,” I muttered, “how did you-”

 

“Yeah,” he said, “guess I couldn’t turn it off,” he winked. 

 

“Turn  _ what _ off?” I inquired. 

 

“Jack does that to people,” Rose explained, “he can mess with people’s errm,” she paused, “ _ sexual _ desires.” 

Oh boy, he seemed like trouble, and trouble he was according to Rose’s explanation of his powers. 

“But don’t worry,” she said, “he usually saves it for Ianto.”

 

“Who’s Ianto?” I asked. 

 

“His ‘love interest’,” River butts in, “honestly the fact that Moffat lets them eff their arses off is absurd. I mean, we’re in school!”

 

“Ew,” I responded. Not ‘ew they’re gay’, but ‘ew they’re  _ doing _ each other on school grounds. Is this a school? I’m not exactly sure.

 

“Where’s David?” Rose asked the rest of the group, who I’m assuming were her friends. “I need to find him to work on the Science project.” River stifled a laugh. “What?” Rose asked.

 

“Sorry,” she said, she turned to me, “they’re totally an item if that’s what you mean. They were two of the first to be abducted.” As River said that it washed over me. This may seem like a normal school, but that’s all a facade, Torchwood  _ owns _ us. They’re just trying to let us have a few more months of normal life until we’re ‘tested’ on.

 

“I think he just went out to get candy or summat, you know he loves his Maltesers,” Matt responds. Then he lowered his voice, “Oh, he also went to get protection for when you guys ‘Netflix and Chill’ tonight.” 

I may be antisocial, but, unfortunately, I know what that’s a euphemism for. Matt noticed my expression.

“Oh. Was that too much for you? I really need to work on talking less.”

 

I stand there, looking shocked. Why is everyone taken in this school and already effing each other? Aren’t we a bit young for that? I mean, I’ve never even kissed a guy, and these people are already effing all the time! 

“No, it's fine,” I lied. “Actually I've never even kissed anyone so-” another lie.

 

“Well, I can change that for you,” Matt interjects and wiggles his non-existent eyebrows. 

 

“No thanks,” I responded, putting my hand between his mouth and mine, “I think I'll just find my way back to the my room.”

 

“Be careful!” Matt yelled as I left the room. Or, tried to leave, as I discovered, handprints were needed to exit as well. Matt described them as being like our ID cards, tracking us wherever we go. 

“I'll help you,” he said while getting up. He scanned his own fingerprint into the system, and I left the hallway, he promised Torchwood would help me tomorrow.

 

It was easy for me to make my way back- eidetic memory after all. When I opened the door Rose was there, I didn’t even realize that she had left before. She had company. He was nineteen or even twenty. He looked like her was one of the oldest ones out of all the Mutants. He had brown hair sticking up in all directions, a trench coat that was far to long for him, and he was wearing what looked to be 3D glasses.

 

Rose spotted me first, “Um, David,” she said, pointing to her friend, “This is Clara, my new roommate,”

 

“Hi,” I said awkwardly, “I’ll just go-” I said, closing the door.

 

“It’s not a problem,” David said, “It’s really not, I was just helping Rose with-” he paused looking for an excuse.

 

“Maths,” Rose suggested.

 

“Yeah, I was helping Rose with her Maths homework,” David said, “Trigonometry,” he lied. “Feel free to stay,” I entered hesitantly. 

 

I went to sit on my bed, and I found a box containing the bag I was carrying. It contained my laptop, notebooks, pencil case, and phone. Being a teenage girl, my first instinct was to check my phone, “Don’t bother,” Rose said, “Torchwood’s internet is locked,” Being me, my second instinct was to open one of my notebooks. I chose the grey one, the one I was saving for Physics. I took out my ballpoint pen and started writing.

 

_ “Day One- September 20th, 2032. _

 

_ Someone has captured me. I’m at this place called “Moffat’s School for Mutants. I don’t know how I got here, or where it is. If you’re reading this. Send help.” _

I paused. Sounded a little too ‘Doomsday Survivalist’ and not enough ‘Diary’. Hey, if I this is my legacy, I want it to be personal, let Torchwood know about the  _ people _ they’ve kidnapped.

 

_ “I made a friend today. Her name is Rose, is she really my friend? I don’t know, but she’s a Mutant like me. All of them are. Matt is telepathic, River is Psychic, Rose can heal people, Jack is a huge flirt and Davis is- well I don’t know, but he wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t. I’ve been trying to settle, all of these guys have. But how can I settle in this prison? I dunno.” _

 

I stopped. Do you normally sign diary entries? I felt stupid asking.

 

_ “-Clara Oswin Oswald,”  _

  
I could always erase it.


	3. Day Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short! I've got a lot of tests this week so I'll get it right soon!

**Day Two**

**Matt**

 

I woke up to my roommate, Rory, leaving the room. It was 7:53- seven minutes before class started- and I had uncharacteristically slept in. I had the coolest dream. Clara was in it- oh yeah, Clara. I sighed with happiness. She’s so pretty, and I … am I getting too ahead of myself? That thought string motivated me to finally get out of bed and get dressed.  _ Bow tie or no bow tie?  _ I thought. Clara disliked it, and I wanted to make a good impression, but at the same time- it's a  _ bow tie _ .

 

Realizing I couldn't dwell on it much longer, I put on the bow tie, quiffed my hair, and grabbed my bag to make it out on time. I was halfway across the hall when I ran into Clara.

 

“Hi Matt,” she greeted me. Oh good, she remembered my name.  _ Of course she did, _ I thought,  _ she has eidetic memory. _

 

She was nervous, figures- first day at a new school which may or may not be a government testing facility where they're running intense psychological experiments on us. I wish I could comfort her without sounding like a complete idiot. 

 

“Hi Clara,” I responded, about five seconds after what's socially acceptable.

 

“You okay?” She asked. Ah yes, the question where the majority of people who respond are lying. No one's  _ really  _ okay, and knowing that but not being able to help them is tortuous.

 

“Yeah,” I said, and if you were to recall my previous statement, you would know I meant it. “What's your first class?” I asked.

 

She pulled out a piece of paper from her bag and unfolded it, “Sorry, let me just check,” her index finger followed her eyes as she scanned the paper for her class. “Practical Applications for Powers,” she said, “with Mr. Davies,” she said. She thought that all these sounded like something from Harry Potter. Charming.

 

“Oh good,” I responded, glad she wasn't with Moffat first. Mr. Davies was nice. He let you get away with not doing homework, and he doesn't use negative reinforcement which I was  _ especially  _ thankful for. “Me too,” I said.

She perked up at that, “Well at least I'll have a friend,” she said, smiling. She looked up at the clock at the end of the hall, “Three minutes,” she said, “better hurry up.”

 

We raced down the corridor to get to class- just in time too. Mr. Davies was just walking in.

 

“Smith,” he said, glaring at me, but I could tell he didn’t care, “you're late,” 

 

Clara leaned closer to my ear, “I thought you said he would understood why we were late!” She was even more nervous than she was before.

 

“Well…” I said, struggling for an excuse.

 

“Smith, you should tell me the truth before you speak,” Clara said.

 

“But Clara, I didn’t-” I tried to defend myself. Clara rolled her eyes and began to walk towards an empty desk and looked back at me, as if to say  _ nice try. _

 

Mr. Davies was getting slightly annoyed, “Shush! Class is starting.” Clara went to sit at a desk next to River, who was giving me a look. I glared at River, who just smirked lazily.

 

I sighed and slumped into my seat next to Amy. Well, that kinda messed up my relationship with Clara. Oops? She was more engaged with her new surroundings than she was with me, anyways.

 

Amy looked at me with a sly smile, “So, already thinking of getting with the new girl, eh?” Amy was always really blunt and liked messing with me for some reason. She and River always loved to do it. River especially. 

 

“I- what? No,” I hissed back at her. She only gave me this look and I could hear the doubt in her thoughts. “Shut up,  _ Amelia _ .” Amy shot me a glare and started teasing me in her thoughts, which I tried to block out.

 

After an hour of being lectured about why Jack shouldn’t try and set a world record for most people ‘banged’, and why Martha can’t just convince the prime minister to give her his job, the bell rang and I put my things back in my bag, with a scowl on my face.

 

“What’s wrong?” Clara asked with genuine concern.

 

“Nothing,” I grumbled. She gave me a doubtful look.

 

“Lying, are we now?” Amy asked and sped up ahead of me. I could hear her thinking  _ to your girlfriend. _

 

“Shut up, Amy!” I said out of the corner of my mouth, but it was no use, I knew Clara could hear.

 

“What’s going on?” Clara looked at me, as well as Amy’s retreating figure, and back at me, trying to figure out what was going on. “Who was that?”

 

“That's Amy Pond,” I said, “she's a friend.” 

 

Clara raised her eyebrows at that, but she believed it, sidetracking a little bit-really we were best friends. Met each other as kids, grew up together, with Rory as well who didn’t like me for some time because he thought Amy was crushing on me, long story.

 

Clara was confused, “If you say so,” she said cautiously. 

 

She wasn’t acting jealous, just curious, like most people when they come. Donna’s first day was especially bad- but she made everyone forget the details. She really needed this class. “What's next?” She asked.

 

“Breakfast,” I said, “even Mutants need to eat.” Clara laughed. Her face is so pretty when she does that, it lights up the whole room.

 

“I haven't eaten in days,” she realized, putting a worried look on her face. “I'm starving.”

 

“Me too,” I said, “follow me. You can sit with me, if you like. I’ll introduce you to my friends.” Great, now she thought I was trying to set her up. The exact  _ opposite  _ of what I wanted.

 

“Sure,” she said, perking up. “I'd like that.”

 

As we walked down the hallways, her eyes were taking in every detail (“It'll help me distinguish them,” she said. God she had a weird way of remembering things). We made it to the dining hall and as I opened the door, Clara's face fell, she was expecting more ‘Hogwarts’ and less ‘Low budget high school's teacher’s lounge’.

 

“It's okay,” I promised, “the food’s decent,” she stifled a laugh. “Here follow me.” We walked to the serving area and each got a tray of what looked like-porridge? I don't even know. 

 

“So,” she asked, “where are your friends?” Her eyes scanned the room for familiar faces.

 

“Right there,” I pointed in the opposite direction of where she was looking. She felt embarrassed but turned around to see my group of friends. More like acquaintances really, none of us had been here more than a week.

 

_ Hey Raggedy man _ , I can hear Amy’s annoying thoughts,  _ I see you’re with the new girl again?  _

 

“Amy, Rory, River, this is Clara. She's the newest Mutant,” I said, trying not to tie my tongue in a knot (happened before- not very fun). 

 

“Hi,” Clara said, “I think I met some of you yesterday.” She analyzed their faces. I suddenly realized why she thought of not having friends earlier. I know that was mean. Sorry.

 

“Ah I've seen her before,” Amy had a slight smug look on her face, “She was in our first period class wasn't she?” She knew what she was saying, and she knew that she was messing up my plan- or she would be if I had one. She didn't care.

 

“Yes she was,” River answered for me, “Careful sweetie, you're about to make a huge mistake.”

 

Clara’s emotions shifted from excitement to concern.

“What do you mean?” she asked. “He was just showing me around. I don’t like him, well as a friend I do, and I’m not saying that I don’t-” she trailed off, River smirked. “Fine,” Clara said, “you win.”

 

“‘Course I did,” muttered River.  _ I always win _ , I heard her think. Bad memories, that brought up some really bad memories.

 

“Well,” I said, clapping my hands together, a habit of mine, “this is awkward. I’ll go.” As I tried to get up, Amy pulled me back by my bowtie, a habit of hers that I wish she would stop- she’s ruined five of my bowties so far. 

 

“You’re staying here,” she said, I focused on a glint in her eyes, “Raggedy man.” Why was she doing this to me? I needed to escape this. Well I suppose I didn’t  _ need  _ to, but it would have been very,  _ very _ helpful.

 

“What?” Clara asked. She was confused and angry, but most importantly suspicious. Suspicious of us, suspicious of Moffat, suspicious of Torchwood, suspicious of  _ me _ .

 

“Raggedy man,” I said, “It’s her nickname for me- long story.” Clara nodded slowly, as if to say, “you guys are effing weird” actually, she  _ was  _ thinking that. But she was thinking so many things I chose to ignore that.

 

We talked for a while about things. Things like life here at Moffat’s School For Mutants (“MSFM”), what Torchwood wants with us, if we ever will be free. There were more answers than questions. 

 

Then I was saved by the bell. Next class. No Clara, no Amy, no River, thank Rassilion.

 

As I listened to Ms. Gardner drone on about how Mutants came to be, a story that we hear every day, I started exploring my thoughts. About Clara. I mean, I liked her and everything, but she’d be kinda creeped out if she knew I constantly read her thoughts. I stifled a yawn and put my head on the desk, and soon dozed off.

 

“Mr. Smith!” I jolt awake.  I’m not in Ms. Gardner’s class. I’m in a cell. Not like the high security prison cells of today, but one like those old fashioned early 2000’s movies. Metal bars, cement floors - heck, I was even in handcuffed. There were a few notions of my time, a handprint scanner and of course a computer display. 

  
“Who’s there?” I asked, fearfully. I could hear thoughts, but I couldn’t discern them It’s like you’re in a busy street, and all you hear is noise. I couldn’t make it stop. My head is throbbing. I don’t where know I am. 


	4. Day Three

One of the most twisted things about MSFM is the false sense of security. They convince you that you’re safe here, that your friends will be safe. Lies, all of it. We were fools for believing them.

 

I had just gotten out of class when it started, Increasing the Full Potential of Powers (IFPP), with Mr. Gates. Nothing out of place, nothing odd. David and I were walking down the hallway, chatting about who knows what. It didn’t matter. What matters is that he was there.

 

In our next class we passed notes the whole time (well I did, he just got annoyed because he cared about the classes even though he most likely knew everything anyways). It reminded me of before I came here, when I was normal. I hadn’t even known about my powers until I got here. It was a real shock. Swore I was dreaming. Then I met David, and I was  _ positive _ I was dreaming. Why would someone as smart as him want something to do with someone as ‘intellectually inferior’ as me, I still don’t know, but I know it’s genuine.

 

After our last ‘class’ we went to the common room to chill out, there wasn’t much ‘homework’ at this school. They said our powers worked best if they didn’t stress us out, but David and I think that that can’t be true, since we use them during our free time without any side effects.

 

“I’ll be back in a second,” he promised. I thought he would be, I bet he thought he would be too. Alas, Torchwood can't be trusted. They never can be.

 

It had been an hour and half and David wasn’t in the common room, where he said he would meet me for a date he had planned. I heard a ‘whoosh’ of the door sliding opened and I turned around quickly, biting my nails, hoping it was David. Instead it was Clara (I guess she got her handprint registered with Torchwood), rushing inside looking worried.

 

“Hey have you seen David anywhere?” I asked her.

 

“No, sorry,” she bit her lip, “Have you seen Matt?” I shook my head and she sighed.

 

“Maybe he went to his room, he did seemed to get annoyed earlier.” I shrugged. “Um, Rose do you know where his room is?”

 

“Yeah,” I said, “He’s in room A113, with Rory.”  _ Right across from David _ , I remembered, taking a mental note that I could check on him too, hopefully.

 

Clara was perplexed for a second, “I don’t think I’ve been down that hall yet, could you show me?” 

 

“Of course,” I said. I was going down there anyways, what’s the harm? I picked up my bag and scanned my hand so the doors would open. Clara followed me, in a hurry. We turned left and followed the route I had been down so many times.

 

“There,” I pointed to A113, “You might want to knock first, I saw Amy in there earlier.” Clara made a face as if to say  _ seriously _ ? Hey, you pick that stuff up from hanging around Jack for too long.

 

Clara knocked on the door, hurting her knuckles in the process. Not only were these doors sound proof, but they were made from a titanium alloy. She glared at me. I laughed, remembering that David had done the same to me, I needed to find him. 

 

“What now?” Clara asked.

 

“Here,” I said, waving my hand over a motion sensor. The door opened. I waved at Clara. “Good luck, I hope you don’t get scarred for life.” Clara only made a face at me and I giggled. Like I said, been hanging around Jack for too long.

 

“Who is it?” I heard Amy yell. 

 

“Relax,” I said as Clara and I walked in, “it’s just us.”

 

Her face washed over with relief, “Oh I thought it was…” she trailed off.

 

“Who?” I asked.

 

“Not important,” she said, “anyways what brings you here?” She was gathering her stuff, smuggled magazines, a sweater, et cetera.

 

“Have you seen Matt?” Clara chimed in. “He was in my class this morning,” 

 

“Mine too,” Amy said, “I think he went with River and Sarah Jane.” Clara’s eyes narrowed, her jealousy was blatantly obvious. “Not like that,” Amy promised. Clara was a little relieved.

 

Rory shrugged, “Don’t worry, he’s probably in the common room.”

 

“Just checked there,” I said. Clara was getting worried again.

 

“Where else would he be?” she asked. “I mean, we’re not allowed to be anywhere, but the common room and our rooms. Matt wouldn’t break the rules.” Amy rolled her eyes. 

 

“Are we talking about the same Matt?” she asked. “ ‘Cause otherwise, you clearly don’t know him.” Amy’s voice had an almost possessive tone to it, which made Clara have a hard time maintaining eye contact with her.

 

“Look,” Rory interrupted, “he’s probably with River and Sarah Jane, like Amy said.”

 

“Oh great,” Clara said, faking a smile (not very well though). 

 

“What’s the matter?” Amy asked, insincere. “Are you jealous?” she asked teasing Clara about her obvious crush on Matt.

 

“No!” Clara squeaked defensively, as her face turned bright red.

 

“Guys,” I said, “please stop fighting, it’s not gonna get us anywhere.” I took a deep breath. “Besides has anyone noticed that David is missing too?” 

 

Rory’s brows furrowed and Amy frowned. Clara seemed to be thinking about something deeply.

 

“Maybe Chris knows where they went?” Rory suggested.  I hesitated at the idea to talk to Chris. It wasn’t that I didn’t like him, but it was awkward. He… well I got the vibe that he liked me. In a creepy way. Also, he’d been arrested for crimes before, using his temporary cloning ability to confuse police officers.

 

Amy left for a minute, checking David and Chris’ room. She came back in, looking like she was trying to figure something out.

 

“He's not here either,” she frowned.

 

“Great,” Rory deadpanned, “some of our best friends are kidnapped and one of which is a wanted criminal and all of them are mutants. Great.” Amy rolled her eyes.

 

“We don’t know if they’ve been taken somewhere,” Clara pointed out. She’s smart, she knew she was lying to herself. It was more her hope speaking than anything else. 

 

“Where else would they be?” I asked, trying to be helpful. “Besides, this place has always been sketchy. We’re better than that.” I paused remembering David. Remembering all the things he taught me, all the things he showed me. All the things he was going to show me.

 

“They were all better than that.” Everyone nods in agreement.

 

“Clara Oswin Oswald.” A drone flies into the room. “Will Clara Oswin Oswald please report to Ward 42?” I feel dread growing in the pit of my stomach.

 

Clara tried to hold her own, she really did. It was a good three minutes before the robotic arm of the drone injected her with God knows what, and wheeled her into wherever Ward 42 was. I silently vowed to get her back. Amy and Rory were soon called out as well. We know better than to fight them, Clara was the exception.

 

Ten minutes I spent waiting. I didn’t know what else to do, everywhere else seemed to be guarded beyond reason. So I just sat there and thought. Thought about life before MSFM, thought about life after MSFM- if there was one. Finally, I heard the drone return.

 

“Will Rose Marion Tyler please report to Ward 42.” It’s robotic voice was echoing in my ears for seconds after.

 

I followed the drone into the ward, after all I had nothing to lose.

 

The brief bit of mildly toxic gasses was to be expected. I saw Clara, she saw me, I passed out. Standard Torchwood. Y’know, sometimes I wonder if they knock us out for fun.

 

I wake up, hearing distressed noises from across the room. I sigh, nightmares were a regular occurrence at MSFW. I mean, they experiment on us, trying to push us to our boundaries and trying to figure out our limits with no care for the backlash  _ we  _ end up having.

 

I slide from my bed, feet touching the cold floor. I walk to Clara’s bed and shake her. She only responds to me by trying to hide, rolling away from me. I frown. Whatever they did in there was obviously traumatizing to her and she was having bad after effects. 

 

“Clara,” I shake her once more, “Wake up.” She only curls up into a ball, and I can hear her whispering hurriedly under her breath. She must be having a terrible nightmare. She lets out a shriek and I jump slightly. 

 

“Clara,” I try again, this time getting really close to her ear, “Matt is waiting to go to class with you. Wake up.” Clara ceases her muttering and slight shaking that she had begun to do.

 

“Matt’s missing, you know that Rose.” 

 

“I know, but you looked like you needed to wake up.” Clara sighed and sat up. “You looked like you were having a nightmare.” 

 

“Oh, I…” Clara trailed off, “It’s normal.” I frown at her trying to brush it off.

 

“Normal, how?” 

 

“I got them ever since I can remember.” It seems like nightmares were a backlash of her eidetic memory I guess. Having had eidetic memory all her life, she’s probably had countless nightmares, or maybe she got lucky, and was spared from the side effects.

 

“Backlash?” Clara questioned. I stopped for a second, not realizing that I had been voicing my thoughts.

 

“All Mutants have backlash.” I explained, “The effects have a range for some people, but for someone like me, it’s always exactly the same.”

 

“What is your backlash?” she asked.

 

“My power is healing. Whenever I heal someone, I get their injuries,” I explain. “If someone had a cut on their right arm, I would get a cut on my right arm.”

 

Clara seemed to be thinking about it. “Can you heal… cancer?” Stupid question we both knew, it had been eradicated for the most part back in 2019, but it’s still used as a standard for disease.

 

“I dunno, Torchwood hasn’t made me do that yet. I’m not even sure if I can,” I shrug.

 

“But if you could heal someone with cancer, and they made you heal someone with cancer at a normally incurable stage, or heal someone with an amputated leg for instance…” she trails off. I shudder as I think about that. Thankfully Torchwood hasn’t made me attempt to heal anything on that scale, though I wouldn’t put it past them.

 

“Like I said, Clara, I dunno,” I turned to face her, “I promise we’ll get them back though.”

 

She turned to face me, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

 

Her eyes were red as if she’d been crying. Though I’m a huge believer in superstitions, I personally thought it was a little bit obscure how Clara and Matt found “true love” so quickly. 

 

“No,” I admitted, “but who’s there to stop us from trying?” I joked, Clara was clearly not amused.

 

“Torchwood,” Clara stated, “and Moffat, whoever he is.” 

 

An idea popped into my head, an odd one, for sure, one that would most definitely not work, but if it did- “Remember, we’re Mutants.”

 

“So?” she gave me a look, “that just means half the world wants to experiment on us, and the other half wants us dead.”

 

“Well that  _ is  _ true,” I did acknowledge her statement, my dad was eager to give me up for the 10,000 pound reward. ‘But we’re anomalies, they’re trying to learn about us. They don’t know our strengths, our limits. That’s the whole point of Moffat’s School for Mutants. Imagine what we could get done if we all worked together. We could free them- heck- we could probably free ourselves.”

 

Clara was inspired by my ‘speech’. 

 

“Really?” I nodded. “How?” she asked, clearly intrigued at the prospect of gaining freedom.

 

“First,” I said, “We’re going to need some help.” Clara rolled her eyes as I signaled for her to get out of bed and follow me. We walked a few doors down the hall to my friend, Sarah Jane’s room. 

 

“What do you want?” she responded, clearly irritated that she was woken up in the middle of the night.

 

“David’s missing,” I said.

 

“That’s it?” she asked, getting angrier.

 

“Matt and Chris too,” Clara added, but it clearly didn’t help.

 

“That’s old news,” Sarah Jane snapped. “Is that seriously what you woke me up for?”

 

She was about to slam the door on my face. “We think we can save them.”   
  


Her countenance shifted from angry to intrigued.“Go on,” she said gesturing for us to enter her room.


	5. Day Four

I wake up, not knowing what to expect. I was in a cell with Matt and Chris, neither of whom I was particularly friends with. 

 

“Okay,” Matt said clapping his hands together the instant he realized I was awake. “We’re trapped here, so how do we get out?” 

 

“Who says we’re trapped?” Chris said, trying to open the cell door by picking a lock. He promptly sat back down when he realized it was helpless.

 

“Okay, you try that,” Matt said, “meanwhile we’ll try and find out where we are.” He was clearly excluding Chris, that wasn’t cool, but we had bigger issues. 

 

“So,” I said, “what do we remember?” I needed help.

 

“I was walking down the hall,” Chris began, “and then the drones came.”

 

**“** Same here,” Matt added. Great, so that leaves us with nothing.

 

“Anything else since then?” I asked, in hopes of finding something  _ anything. _

 

“We know we’re still at Torchwood,” Chris said, “we saw some people in uniform earlier, they left some food.”   
  


My stomach growled, and I remembered how hungry I was. “And you ate it all?”

 

“No need to be so angry,” Matt said, half joking. “You were asleep and the plan was not to tell you.” he glared at Chris.

 

Suddenly there was a motor heard from down the hall. We all froze and backed down to the corner of the room, that sound never meant anything good.

 

“Testing subject # 27A31D,” A female voice called.

 

“That’s you,” Matt said, referring to the string of numbers that had been inked onto my wrist, presumably while I was unconscious.

 

I slowly made my way to the door, Chris and Matt staring at me with an expression of pity on their faces. 

 

“Good luck,” Matt said, and I panicked.

 

“Good Luck? What do I need good luck for?” I asked starting to hyperventilate. They exchanged worried glances as I was dragged out of the room by a woman-presumably the one I’d heard speaking. She was wearing a white lab coat, a odd striped scarf and a bowtie. 

 

“David?” She asked.

 

“Yep that’s me,” I responded as I struggled trying to get her hand to stop clamping my wrist. “Who are you?” I asked. Not that it mattered.

 

“I’m Osgood,” she responded, “my name’s right here.” She said pointing to a- rather noticeable- nametag. Whoops.

 

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, not that it could make me feel any better.

 

“You don’t want to know,” she said. “You really don’t want to know.” Her voice almost hinted that she felt guilty about this.

 

We walked through the rest of the corridor in silence taking a few turns here and there- I hoped someone would show me how to get back. 

 

“Here,” she said when we finally reached a door marked  _ Testing Room 3B _ . 

 

She pushed it open to let me in. I saw large complex machine- many actually- but this one stood out. It had test tubes filled with assorted chemicals tying into it- a beautiful fusion of chemistry and engineering- if only it’s usage was as brilliant.

 

I heard the door slam shut behind me. I stayed as still as I could as my heartbeat increased drastically and I lost feelings in my legs. I heard a chair swiveling from behind me and I turned to face it. To my surprise, sitting in it was none other than Mr. Moffat. Yeah, Moffat as in Moffat’s School for Mutants, that one.

 

Though I hate to admit it, I screamed in horror. I didn’t know what to expect, but I just had the  _ slightest _ bit of trust in him and it had been thrown out of the window. 

 

“It’s you!” I shouted.

 

“Of course it is,” he said, “it is called  _ Moffat’s _ School for Mutants.” He was clearly not amused.

 

“Why am I here?” I asked. “Why did you bring me here, what do you need with us Mutants anyways?” I could feel my voice trembling with every word.

 

“Calm down,” he said, “take a seat.” He gestured to a fold up chair behind me, I hesitantly sat down. “All of your questions will be answered soon. Just sit very still.”

 

I heard the aforementioned machine rolling towards me. Squeaky wheels on linoleum- worst sound in the world. Then I saw it- all those wires and plugs- well I guess they needed to go somewhere.

 

“You’re the science kid, right?” he said. Since I couldn’t nod I gave him the thumbs up which seemed incredibly out of place given the scenario. “Big brain,” he said, “I almost feel shameful for having to do this.”

 

“D-D-Do wh-what?” I stammered, but I was too late. The nozzles were plugging themselves into every hole in my head. Real lovely image there. 

 

I tried to scream, but I couldn’t breathe. The machine's arms were holding my arms back so I couldn’t even  _ try _ to free myself, not that I could, the machine seemed to have injected me with some paralyzing serum- quite smart. 

 

I felt the blood escaped my head as I passed out in the chair. I later found out he was performing tests on the blood he extracted, figures. I was probably passed out for a good few minutes until I woke up again, this time by repeatedly being electric shocked. 

 

At that point I thought he was just sending electrical impulses through my body for fun. It didn’t seem to have any impact aside from

 

It was only after that when I started loosing my mind, piece by piece.

 

When I was finally unplugged to “restore” my body, I forgot how to walk. I tripped and, to Moffat’s dismay, knocked over a whole table full of what I could only imagine to be very important research. He ended up having to call Osgood back to help me walk back to the cells.

 

She rolled her eyes when she heard what had happened, but helped me no less.

 

“Matt nearly swallowed his tongue while trying to speak,” she informed me.

 

Then, as I got back to the cell, I got a headache so bad, I was having so much trouble concentrating, that I could barely remember how to breathe. Chris had to bring me back with CPR when I eventually passed out (Yes, It was mouth to mouth, no he will not admit it).

 

As I regained conscious, the headache returned. It was less severe for sure, I was able to swallow a couple of the nutrition pills Torchwood had provided, but I still couldn’t form a coherent thought. While Matt and Chris were both called for testing, I was lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling. 

 

Later, I was brought to a similar room, one occupied by Mr. Davies. He was testing my memory retention. He held up a red card.

 

“What color is this?” he asked.

 

“Red,” I responded, “are you seriously testing me on this?”

 

He imputed something into his computer then held up another card. “What’s this?” 

 

“A dog,” I responded, “honestly, Mr. Davies, I’m not an idiot!” I was getting tired of this already.

 

He said nothing in response. “And who’s this?” he asked again.

 

“Prime Minister of Great Britain,.

 

“What about this?”   
  


“Hoverboard.”   
  


“Can you tell me this?”

 

“Yes, it’s the flag of New Germany.” Honestly, he thinks I’m an idiot or something.

 

“Okay, last question,” he said, pulling out a picture of a girl. She had blonde hair and brown eyes, and she had a brilliant, brilliant smile. “Who’s this?”

 

I scoured my brain, unable to place the image. I had never seen her before- not to my knowledge. Was she an actress? Or a famous singer? I didn’t really keep up with that stuff. 

 

“I don’t know,” I said, sheepishly.

 

“Does the name Rose Tyler ring a bell?” he asked, taking very attentive notes.

 

I scoured my mind, but I couldn’t find anything. “Sorry,” I said, “never heard of her.”

 

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

 

“Positive,” I responded. “Why, should I?” 

 

“Look,” Mr. Davies said, “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but,” he paused. “Nevermind.”

 

“What?” I asked. “What were you going to say?”   
  


“I said nevermind,” Mr. Davies repeated, “you probably won't remember.”

 

“You want more research, right?” I asked him.

 

“Well, yes,” Mr. Davies responded, “that’d be great,”

 

“So ask me,” I said, “I’ll answer them as well as I can.”

 

“Okay,” he continued his questioning, “I assume you know what MSFM stands for?” I nodded. “Okay, and do you remember anyone from there?”  
  
“Yeah,” I said, “Matt and Chris, they're both in my cell, and um, Martha, Donna, Sarah Jane, River…” I trailed off.

 

“But not Rose,” he repeated, “all of these people, but not Rose.”   
  


“Yeah,” I said, “I have no idea who she is.” I scoured my mind. I felt like I should know her, but I didn’t. I just didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry that that was so short- I can't write torture for the life of me and my cowriters were all busy *studying*. Anyways, this now updates on Wednesdays


	6. Day Six- Sarah Jane

 

It had been two days since Matt, Chris, and David went missing, and we still didn’t have a clue as to where they were. Rose, Clara, and I had spent all of our free time searching. We observed every little detail- how Moffat and Davies were missing multiple times each day, how none of the teachers acknowledged their absence. I couldn’t even get them to give me the answers like I usually could (Ah yes, my powers of interrogation and hyper-analyzation were useless against Torchwood. Seemed like a waste to even bring me here).

 

The day prior, Jack was able to obtain some security footage showing how they were taken. The footage didn’t show much, just the general drones and being wheeled away. It wasn’t at night like you’d expect for a kidnapping, it was 6:32 PM, just about our dinner time when they were taken. The most of a lead we were able to find was that there were some blue and yellow gasses emitted by those drones- probably an anesthetic of some sorts. Ironically, David was probably the only one who could tell us what it really was.

 

Upon going to the site of the footage, we found that there weren’t any cameras there, concealed or otherwise. “They must’ve brought a camera with them,” Rose noted, “weird.”

 

“They recorded it, because they  _ wanted _ us to see it,” I deduced. “Think about it, why would they need the evidence if it could only be used against them.” I paused. “Jack, where’d you get the footage?” I asked.

 

“I found the drive on Ms. Gardner's desk,” Jack said. He paused, realizing that it  _ had  _ been left out just for us. 

 

“Red herring,” I said, “false positive, it’s what they want us to believe. There’s a slim chance we’ll ever find the actual footage, if there is any.”

 

“But why would they take the time to make this?” Clara asked, “And those gasses definitely aren’t harmless.” She cringed as she saw her boyfriend-  _ friend _ being subjected to the substances, showing signs of immense pain and agony.

 

“We should probably get back to your room before someone notices us,” Rose said, pointing to the walls enclosing around us.

 

“Always thought this place was a like labyrinth,” Jack joked, “I guess I was right.”

 

“Not the time,” Rose said, rolling her eyes, “but yeah, we should probably get back.”

 

We hurried back, retracing our trail, but the walls were changing elsewhere. There wasn’t any distinguishable pattern as far as I could tell, except that they were closing in on us. 

 

“Plan?” Jack asked, trying in vain to stop the walls from moving.

 

“Stay put,” Clara said, which seemed to go against all of our instincts. “Struggling will only increase it,” that seemed odd to all of us, knowing that staying put would significantly reduce our chances of survival. “If they wanted us dead, they'd have taken us with them, or poisoned us. They want us alive.”

 

“Right,” I agreed, “they’re not trying to torture us, their just containing us.”

 

While Jack seemed to be convinced by that, Rose still had other thoughts. “They’d have  gotten drones after us, or paged us or something. This is meant to hurt us.”

 

“No,” Jack refuted, “they needed a surefire way of getting us there.” The lights finally flickered out and the walls stopped. 

 

“Well played,” we heard a voice say over an intercom, “I was scared I’d have to accidently crush some test subjects again.” The tone definitely didn’t suggest that it was an accident.

 

“Who is it?” Rose called out.

 

“Dammit, it this thing still on?” we heard the voice say. “Hold on a second.” We heard the sound of wires fiddling. If it wasn’t such a dire situation it would almost have been funny.

 

“Okay, can you hear me now?” the oddly familiar voice responded, clearly disgruntled. 

 

“Moffat,” Rose said, bitterly.

 

“Where are you, why them why us?” I demanded.

 

“All in good time,” he said, “but first, we need to find them. That’s why I got you guys, my brightest p-” he paused, “students. My brightest students.”

 

“So you didn’t take them,” Clara confirmed.

 

“No, no,” he laughed, “this place is a safe haven for Mutants- purely peaceful. The idea was to help you avoid getting captured.”

 

“So you captured us?” Jack asked, not really getting it.

 

Moffat paused. “Well yes, but it could’ve been worse, much much worse. That’s not the point. The point is, I need to find out more about this, but I can’t do it alone. I need you to help me. Sarah Jane, you’re interrogative abilities, we’ll need that, and Jack- I’ll let you flirt with anyone you need to crack this case.”  
  
“Anyone?” Jack asked, clearly getting some unpleasant ideas.

 

“Well, within reason,” Moffat said. He switched targets to talk to. “Clara,” he continued, “I need you for evidence, every clue counts,” he paused, “and Rose.”

 

“Yeah,” Clara returned, “what am I good for?”

 

“Um,” Moffat struggled, “we’ll find that out later.”

 

“Thanks,” Rose said, her words coated in sarcasm.

 

“Anyways,” Moffat continued, “I’ve been relocating this unit to my office for further discussion.” Before we could protest the room started moving at lightspeed.

 

When it stopped, we all got up. Clara, who was experiencing mild nausea spoke first.

 

“What’s the plan,” she muttered,  asking no one in particular as we gazed around Moffat’s office. It wasn’t so much books that lined the walls rather paper copies of records of practically every Mutant case since the early 1900’s. 

 

“Not much to see there,” Moffat said from behind us, “It’s all on the internet nowadays.”

 

“What do you want?” I asked, trying extra hard to get my powers to work.

 

They almost did, for a second Moffat was about to say something then he snapped back. “Just- erm - to free them,” Moffat answered weakly, but no one was convinced.

 

“What do you  _ really _ want?” I asked, trying even harder only to get less of an effect.

 

“Like I said, their safety,” he said, not even making eye contact.

 

“‘Kay, so that’s not working,” Rose said, “mind if I try?”

 

“Wait,” Clara interrupted, “what if he  _ does  _ want to save us?”

 

“Why did he kidnap us then?” Jack countered.

 

Clara looked like she wanted to retort, but she had nothing to say.

 

“They lie to us, Clara,” I sigh. “They don’t care about keeping us safe. They want to experiment on us, push us to our limits, figure our boundaries, try to push us over the edge.”

 

“No, I really do want to help you. I created Moffat’s School for Mutants for the betterment of all Mutants,” Moffat said, defending himself. “Why would you suspect me of doing such a bad thing to your  _ friends _ ?”

 

“Well, for starters, you kidnapped them, they could be dead, for all we know, and we’re stuck in an institute away from all civilization,” Clara started.

 

“But- it’s for your own good. Here at Moffat’s School for Mutants, we try to help you all with your powers as much as possible. Your friends needed some ‘special training’, since their powers are the strongest.”

 

Rose looked at me and raised an eyebrow. I shrugged and turned back to Moffat, who was sitting with his feet on the desk, with a smug look on his face.

 

“Would you like to join our special training elective? It’s for your own good,” Moffat inquired.

 

“No thanks. Look, I need to study for a test tomorrow, along with the rest of us here. Goodbye, and thanks for the offer,” I said, and turned on my heel. I walked out of the door and everyone followed suit. We all went back to our dorms, and I soon dozed off.

 

**Narrator’s POV**

 

_ Sarah Jane Smith was sleeping peacefully in her bed, same as her friends. There was the low sound of a door sliding, and the door opened. Two men in all black with gas masks came in, and turned the lid on a gas canister. They carefully lifted Sarah Jane off of her bed, trying hard to not wake her roommate, and carried her away, little to her knowledge. _

 

**Sarah Jane’s POV**

 

I woke up, and immediately felt a pain in my head.

 

“Ow!” I complained. “Wait, where am I? I don’t know where I am!”

 

I looked around. I was trapped in a plain, small room with dark grey walls. My ankle was chained down to a cot, and the only other piece of furniture in the room was a metal toilet that was presumably dysfunctional. An ominous metal door enclosed the room, so I knew there was no way I could ever get out of here. Crap.

 

“I don’t know where I am, either!” I heard Jack exclaim over a speaker. Oh! There was a small intercom next to my bed. I pressed the button, and spoke.

 

“Jack! Is that you? Are you trapped, too? How will we get out of here?” The questions came firing out of me.

 

“Yeah, it’s me. We’re trapped and I have no idea how to escape because I have no idea where we are.”

 

“Well… that’s not good. How will we ever get home? I wonder if the others are here…”

 

“Yeah, we’re here. You woke me up with your talking!” I hear Clara’s voice over the intercom.

 

“Clara! Thank goodness you’re alive. So, back to that escape plan.”  

 

“Wait, if Torchwood or Moffat or whatever let us speak on intercoms, then they probably can listen in on the conversation,” another voice cut in.

 

“Rose?” Jack confirmed, though at this point it really wasn’t necessary.

 

“Yeah,” she said. 

 

“We probably shouldn’t share anything confidential,” I agreed.

 

“So where _are_ we?” Jack asked. “I mean, do you think we’ve been taken to the same place as David, Matt, and Chris?”  
  
“I reckon,” I said, “No need separating us, best to have all prisoners in the same place.”

 

“Do you think,” Clara stuttered, “Do you think they are going to run experiments on us?”

 

“‘course,” I said, “what else would they be doing here that they couldn’t do back at MSFM- or wherever that is,”

 

“But-” she began and a voice was heard over the intercom, “wait, she said,” we stood frozen for a moment, “she says she wants to take me to see someone,”

 

“Don’t go,” Jack said, “It’s a trap,”   
  


“Resistance won’t work either,” I pointed out. “They have their ways,”

 

“Guys, she’s coming closer what do I do?” Clara asked.

 

“Go,” I said, “They’ll get you one way or another,” It’s true. 

 

A few more minutes of rationalizing until Jack was paged, followed by Rose. Then it was just me. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears, I hadn’t been this scared in a long time, not since my introduction to MSFM. 

  
“Sarah Jane Smith,”


End file.
